The Sorceror's Stone
by Aisha Iwakura
Summary: Just like the first book...only most of the cast is replaced with Gundam Wing characters >.> I'm NOT doing this to show up J.K. Rowling, it's just out of pure boredom ^^;;;
1. Character List

Spur of the moment, crackhead idea....I might do all four books....not sure yet.....ANYWAY! I don't own Harry Potter, or the GW cast, except Aisha. ^^ Okay? Alright. Now, In case you all are thick..(thick...I love that word...) and don't know who's who in the story, I've written up a character list. If you don't like who's who....then...um....deal with it? =D   
  
And, I had to make some girls turn into guy characters, and vice versa...sorry guys, but there werent enough characters to go around .;;;; Also, Quatre, Mako, and Angel don't look a thing alike, yet they're supposed to be related....yeah...... Deal with it.   
  
And McGonagall and Dumbledore are NOT married....they just happen to have the same name...? Hahaha...Oh and sorry Blade, doesn't look like you're gonna be in this one. ^^;;; Not enough characters. Also, some characters, such as the Weasleys, and the bad guys will not have alternitive characters becuase of lack of characters .;;; Part one will be up soon. ^^  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry Potter - Duo Maxwell  
  
Hermione Granger - Aisha Iwakura  
  
Katie Bell - Lian Nataku  
  
Alicia Spinnet - Makoto Tanaka  
  
Angelina Johnson - Angel Tsuiraku  
  
Oliver Wood - Quatre Winner  
  
Draco Malfoy - Heero Yuy  
  
Crabbe - Trowa Barton  
  
Goyle - Chang Wufei  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore - Louie O' Malley  
  
Professor McGonagall - Lizzie O' Malley 


	2. The Boy Who Lived

Here's part one....there may be some OOC and there's no really character change except for Harry, Dumbledore, and McGonagall ^^ The first part of this chapter is basically a reread of the first chapter since I didn't change the Dursleys...I also changed a few things...I changed Lizzy's last name!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Boy Who Lived  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number Four Privet Drive were perfectly normal...and proud of it. The very normal Dursley family lived in Britain, and had a young boy named Dudley. The Dursleys were happy the way life was, but strange things began to happen one gray, Tuesday morning.   
  
Mr. Dursley awoke that morning and picked out his most boring tie for work. Mr. Dursley worked at a company called Grunnings, which made drills; Mr. Dursley was the president of the company. Mr. Dursley was a very large, beefy man with almost no neck. His face was almost constantly some shade of purple, and his eyes were small and mean-looking. He always kept his black hair neat and tidy, always the same part down the middle.   
  
Mrs. Dursley was already up and about by that time, preparing breakfast. Mrs. Dursley was almost the complete opposite of her husband. She was thin, bony, and horse-faced with a long neck. This came in handy since she spent every minute of her spare time craning over the neighbors garden fences, spying on them.   
  
Mrs. Dursley also had a sister; but her name was never allowed to be mentioned in the Dursley Household. In her eyes, her sister was an outcast, a freak, and she had married another freak of her kind and had a freak son. She didn't know where they lived, and frankly, she didn't give a damn. She only knew the Maxwells were bad news.   
  
Mr. Dursley came down for breakfast just as she was wrestling a screaming Dudley into his highchair. Dudley was the Dursley's son. He looked a lot like Mr. Dursley; big and beefy, with tiny piggy eyes. He had his mother's blonde hair which lay on his thick head. Mr. Dursley chuckled as a blob of oatmeal barely missed his face.   
  
"Little Tyke...that energy will come in use, Dudders!"  
  
Dudley merely continued with his tantrum as Mrs. Dursley finally managed to get him into the highchair. Mr. Dursley looked down at his watch and picked up his briefcase.  
  
"Got to go. Bye Dudley," he said, kissing his screaming son on the cheek before exiting the house.   
  
As Mr. Dursley pulled up to the corner of Privet Drive, he noticed a black cat sitting on a brick wall. The cat was reading the street sign labeled "Privet Drive" -- Mr. Dursley stopped himself. Cats didn't read...the cat was simply LOOKING at the sign. The cat didn't move and inch, not even it's tail as Mr. Dursley drove away.   
  
As Mr. Dursley neared the city where Grunnings was located, he ran into the usual morning traffic jam. As he waited patiently, he saw a group of people, all wearing long cloaks of different sizes and colors, huddled in a circle and jabbering exidedly to one another.   
  
"The getups teenagers wear these days," he muttered under his breath, eyeing one man's emerald colored cloak. As he pulled up even closer, he noticed something shocking. Why, the man was older than he was! The nerve! Going out in broad daylight in such ridiculous clothing! Mr. Dursley's mood was slightly dampened by the time he pulled into the Grunnings Parking Lot.   
  
Mr. Dursley's office was on the ninth floor of the building, a window behind his desk, giving a clear view of the sky.   
  
Since Mr. Dursley worked at his desk all morning, his back to the window, he didn't see the owls swooping high and low across the sky in the morning light. Although, people down below in the streets did. They gawked and pointed at the varying sizes and colors of owls, some with pieces of paper tied to their legs.   
  
By lunchtime, Mr. Dursley's mood was improved. He'd yelled at eight different people, had two very important phone calls, and yelled at some more people just for good measure. His mood was so good, he thought he'd stretch his legs a bit and stroll across the road to the bakery to buy himself a bun. As he crossed the street, he frowned to see a circle of these cloaked weirdos by the bakery entrance, whispering exidedly to one another. Mr. Dursley glared at them as he entered the bakery.   
  
Ten minutes later, Mr. Dursley emerged to see the group of cloaked men and women still there, gossiping about something. As he passed the group, clutching a large bun in a bag, he caught some words of their conversation.   
  
"Is it true?"  
  
"Yes...the Maxwells...their son, Duo."  
  
Mr. Dursley froze on the spot. Surely they couldn't be talking about...No...they couldn't be. There were plenty of people with the last name Maxwell. It was a very common name afterall. There also were probably many people with a son named Duo. Yes, that was it. It was all a strange coincidence.   
  
As Mr. Dursley was walking back across the street, a little old man that couldn't have come up to his waist, toppled into him. Mr. Dursley was outraged to see, as the man stumbled backwards, that he was wearing a bright purple colored cloak!  
  
"Watch where you're going!" Mr. Dursley bellowed, attracting some attention from passerbys.   
  
Suprisingly, the little old man did not appear to be angry. In fact, he was grinning widely.   
  
"Nothing shall anger me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has finally gone at last! Even a great Muggle like yourself should be celebrating this happy, happy day!"   
  
And with that, the little old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle, and walked off.  
  
Mr. Dursley stood there, stunned. He had just been hugged by a complete stranger. And he had been called a Muggle...whatever that was. Mr. Dursley hurried back inside the Grunnings bulding, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, and immidiately picked up the phone. Before he had finished dialing his home phone number, he slowly put the phone back down on it's cradle. He shouldn't be bothering Mrs. Dursley with nonsense about her sister...she never liked to hear about her anyway.   
  
Mr. Dursley was so distressed, he, again, didn't notice a large tawny owl swoop by his window.   
  
When closing time came around, Mr. Dursley got into his car, and set off towards Number Four. As he neared the corner of Privet Drive, he noticed the black cat from that morning still sitting on the brick wall. This time, a map was stretched out infront of it and it was staring intently at it. Mr. Dursley shook his head and looked at the cat again, but this time the map had gone, and the cat was staring at Mr. Dursley.   
  
"Shoo! Scat, damn cat!" he shouted at the cat, but it stayed where it was, yellow eyes fixed upon Mr. Dursley.   
  
Mr. Dursley gave up, and pulled into the driveway of Number Four. He decided he wouldn't bother Mrs. Dursley with the nonsense about the Maxwells. He knew she was ashamed of her sister, and he would too, if he had a sister like that.   
  
At dinner, Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily while Dudley threw his mashed potatoes across the room. Mr. Dursley, however, was thinking about the day's events. What did this mean? Talk about the Maxwells...what could have happened to them? He was snapped back to reality just as Mrs. Dursley was talking about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter, and excused himself from the table.   
  
He headed to the den to catch the last of the evening news, and setteled himself in his favorite armchair. He hoped a little television would help clear his mind of the Maxwells.  
  
"Today, owls were spotted flying out in broad daylight. Many confused onlookers gawked at the many owls that were swooping around in plain view. And now, to the weather. Anymore showers of owls tonight, Jack?"  
  
"Afraid not, Bill, but shooting starts were seen falling all over Britain today and last evening. Bonfire Night's not 'til next week folks!" The news broadcaster chuckled at his own joke, just as Mrs. Dursley came into the room, carrying two cups of tea.   
  
Owls spotted flying in broad daylight? Shooting starts all over Britain? And talk...talk about the Maxwells...what did all this mean? He glanced to Mrs. Dursley, who was calmly watching TV, sipping her tea every once in a while. He decided he couldn't keep the talk about her sister's family inside any longer.   
  
Mr. Dursley cleared his throat and prepared to speak.   
  
"Heard from your sister lately?"  
  
Mrs. Dursley's head snapped to the side to look at him, a mean glint in her eye.   
  
"No...why do you ask?"  
  
"I've been hearing talk...about THEIR kind..."  
  
Mrs. Dursley pursed her lips.   
  
"Don't they have a son? What's his name...Dave, Danny, Donald..."  
  
"Duo," Mrs. Dursley interrupted him. "Nasty, freakish name if you ask me."  
  
"I agree."  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley sat in silence for the rest of the night, slowly thinking about what the Maxwells could possibly have to do with the strange happenings of that day.   
  
That night, after Dudley had been put to bed, and the Dursleys had gone to sleep too, the cat sitting on the brick wall finally leapt off of the wall, quietly.   
  
All the way down the street, at the corner, stood a man. He had black hair, slightly receeding in his middle age, and a black mustache. His eyes looked cheery, as if this were a man you could get along with very easily. He wore strange robes of a dark gray color, and black buckled boots were just visible under the hem of his cloak. Little did he know, everything from his mustache, to his buckled boots were unwelcome on Privet Drive.  
  
The man didn't seem to care, though. He was too busy rummaging through the pockets of his cloak. Minutes later, he revealed what looked like a large, silver lighter. He flicked open the top and clicked the lighter once. The streetlight beside him went out with a small "Pop". He did this contiually with the Put-Outer until the entire street was pitch black. He then put the Put-Outer away and walked over to the spot where the cat had once been.   
  
Where the cat was, not stood a middle aged woman, her black hair tied in a bun at the back on her head. She had a few gray hairs here and there, but not too many. Age lines creased her face in a few places. She wore a cloak of dark red, that looked almost black.   
  
"How did you know it was me?" she asked.  
  
The man scoffed. "Liz, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."  
  
Liz, or rather Elizabeth, rolled her eyes at the man. "Well, Headmaster, you'd be stiff too if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day long."  
  
Headmaster Louie O' Malley looked downright shocked at her. "Sitting here all day? When I've passed at least a dozen feasts and parties on my way here!"  
  
Liz scoffed again. "People are being downright careless," she said, pointing to the Dursley's living room window. "I saw it on the Muggle news. Owls flying in open daylight, and shooting stars all across Britain...probably Dedalus Diggle's work..."  
  
"Oh but Liz...everyone's been celebrating because Voldemort is finally gone. You know we have had very little to celebrate for the last eleven years."  
  
Liz flinched at the name Voldemort. Louie didn't seem to notice, he was yet again, rummaging through his coat.   
  
"Care for a lemon drop?" he asked, pulling out a small, yellow package.   
  
Liz raised an eyebrow, eyeing the package as though this was nor the time or place for lemon drops. "A what...?"  
  
"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I've grown quite fond of," said Louie, as he popped two lemon drops in his mouth and began sucking on them.   
  
Liz ignored the lemon drops and dropped her voice to barely above a whisper.   
  
"Owls and shooting stars are nothing to the rumors that are flying around. People are saying that...that...Lily and James Maxwell are..are...they're DEAD..."  
  
Louie dropped his head sadly and Liz gasped. "Louie...No....It can't be true...oh poor Lily and James..."  
  
Louie nodded sympathetically and patted Liz in the shoulder.   
  
"That isn't all," Lizzie began again. " They say their boy, Duo, survived You-Know...Oh all right, VOLDEMORT's attack. They say he just couldn't kill the boy."  
  
Louie nodded again and Lizzie lowered her head. "What happened to the boy? He's not here, is he?" She eyed Louie's cloak, is if suspecting he had Duo hidden inside it.   
  
"Hagrid's bringing him."  
  
"Do you think it's wise to trust Hagrid?"  
  
"I would trust Hagrid with my life," Louie said, gazing skyward again.   
  
Just then, a loud rumbling shook the area and Lizzie looked around, as if anticipating a car's headlight to appear down the road. Suddenly, a large motorcycle appeared out of thin air, and landed on the pavement with a loud "thud" that shook the whole neighborhood. If the motorcycle was big, it was nothing compared to it's rider.   
  
The man was extremely tall, more than ten feet, with unruly black tangled hair and a long black beard. His beetle black eyes shined merrily although there was no light. He wore a long trenchcoat and enourmous black boots. All in all one word could describe him: wild. In one arm, he held a tiny bundle of blankets.  
  
Louie and Lizzie peered over Hagrid's arm to look at the bundle of blankets. The baby inside was fast asleep, one hand curled around a piece of the blanket. His hair was a dark chestnut color, and his face was round a chubby. On his forehead, was a lighting bolt shaped cut.   
  
"Was he okay?"  
  
Hagrid nodded. "Fell asleep jus' as we were flyin' over Bristol."  
  
Lizzie stared at the baby in awe. "And that's where..." she motioned to the lighting bolt cut on the baby's forehead.  
  
Hagrid nodded, handing the bundle over to Louie. "Lit'le Duo was in quite a shock when I showed up at 'is house. House gone, parents 'all dead..." he paused to blow his nose.  
  
Louie carried the bundle up the front steps, a letter now folded in between the folds of the blanket. Lizzie watched him with interest and walked up behind him.   
  
"Louie, you really think you can explain something like this in a LETTER? No Muggles no doubt!"   
  
Louie nodded. "They'll have to understand. Duo has nowhere else to go."  
  
Lizzie and Hagrid watched as Louie placed the bundle of blankets on the front step, and walked back to them. The three watched the baby for a minute before Hagrid finally spoke up.  
  
"I better he takin' Sirius Black his bike back. See you," he said, kicking the engine into life, and flying away with a loud roar of the engine.   
  
"I'd better be going too," said Louie, nodding to Lizzie as he walked off down the street. He barely saw the cat's tail as she slinked around the garden wall. Louie cast one last gaze to Duo, lying on the front step.   
  
"Good luck, Duo."  
  
And with the swish of a cloak, Louie was gone.   
  
Little Duo slept on, not knowing one bit he was famous, not knowing he would be awoken in just a few hours time by his aunt's scream when she put out the milk bottles. He didn't know he'd be spending the next four weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley. Meanwhile, all over the country, people raised their glasses and in hushed whispers said:  
  
"To Duo Maxwell, the Boy Who Lived!"  
  
  
  
  
  
*End Part 1* 


	3. The Vanishing Glass

Heres chapter 2 ^^  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Vanishing Glass  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Morning came and went that fateful day Duo arrived on his aunt and uncle's doorstep. As a matter of fact, just around eleven years had passed since Duo had arrived on their doorstep. This morning, although, he was still asleep, in the cupboard under the stairs. Not for long, though, as his Aunt Petunia banged on the door with her fist and began shouting at him with her shrill voice.   
  
"Up! Get up, now!"  
  
Duo suddenly woke with a start as his aunt banged on the door again.   
  
"UP!" she yelled.   
  
Duo heard her walking towards the kitchen, and then he heard the sound of eggs cracking and the frying pan sizzling. Duo sighed and rolled over onto his back and tried to remember the dream he'd been having before he was rudely interrupted. There had been a gigantic flying motorcycle in it, with an equally large man sitting atop it. He had the funny feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd had the same dream before...  
  
"You up yet?!" his aunt shouted, once again by the cupboard door.   
  
"Nearly," said Duo, sitting up.  
  
"Well, hurry up! I need you to look after the eggs. It's Duddy's birthday and I want everything to be PERFECT so don't you DARE let them burn!" she threatened, walking away again.   
  
Duo sighed. How could he have forgotten Dudley's birthday? It was only the worst day of the year to him, besides his birthday which the Dursley's ignored every year. Duo slowly got up from the cot set up in the cupboard and picked up a sock, peeling a spider off of them before putting them on.  
  
When he was completely dressed, Duo opened the cupboard door and walked down the hall to the kitchen. The table groaned and sagged under the weight of Dudley's many birthday presents. It looked like Dudley had gotten the racing bike he had wanted, Duo thought, eyeing the bike-shaped package beside the table. Why Dudley even wanted a racing bike was the biggest mystery to Duo. Dudley was very fat, and hated exercise. Unless it involved punching somebody -- usually Duo -- but he almost always could escape Dudley's clutches. He didn't look it, but Duo was very fast.   
  
Duo looked small and skinny for a ten year old boy. He looked even smaller and skinnier due to the fact the Dursleys had never bothered to buy him his own clothes -- they gave him Dudley's old clothes, which were four times bigger than he was. Duo had a sort of round shaped face, with rare indigo colored eyes. His hair was a dark chestnut brown color, very long, and kept in a braid that reached to the small of his back. But the thing Duo liked the most about his appearance was the thin, lighting bolt shaped scar. He'd had it as long as he could remember, but when he'd asked Aunt Petunia how he'd gotten it, she always said he'd gotten it in the car crash where his parents had died.   
  
"And don't ask questions," she snapped at him when he'd asked one day. 'Dont ask questions' was one of the Dursleys golden rules for him.  
  
Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen just as Duo was flipping over the eggs in the frying pan.   
  
"Do something about your hair!" he barked, thinking this was some type of morning greeting.   
  
Always, around once a week, Uncle Vernon had to make it known that Duo needed a haircut. Duo must have had more haircuts than the boys in his class put together. He couldn't help the fact that his hair grew unnaturally fast.   
  
Duo was just putting the bacon into the frying pan by the time Dudley waddled into the kitchen, his five chins wobbling. Aunt Petunia often said Dudley looked like a baby angel, the way his blonde hair lay thickly atop his fat head. Duo always said Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.   
  
Duo slid the plates of egg and bacon onto the kitchen table, trying to push the presents aside at the same time to make room. Meanwhile, Dudley was eyeing his presents and counting them carefully.   
  
"Thirty-six," he said, looking pitifully up at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. "Thats two less than last year."  
  
Aunt Petunia, who could obviously see a tantrum coming on, pointed out the present he had missed from his Aunt Marge.   
  
"Oh all right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going slightly red in the face. Duo could also see the tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his breakfast as quickly as possible in case Dudley upturned the table.   
  
"Why don't we buy you two more presents while were out today? How's that?" she said sweetly, smiling down upon her fat son.   
  
Dudley nodded slowly, and Duo could just see the gears turning in his thick head. Uncle Vernon chuckled to himself from the other side of the table.   
  
"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father," he said, and he ruffled Dudley's blonde hair.   
  
At that moment, the telephone decided to ring, and Aunt Petunia excused herself to go answer it. Meanwhile, Duo and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote controlled airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a brand new VCR. He was taking the paper off of another present when Aunt Petunia came back from the kitchen, a sour look on her face.  
  
"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head over in Duo's direction as she spoke.   
  
Dudley's jaw fell, revealing bits of chewed up bacon and egg, but Duo's heart gave a leap. Every single year, the Dursleys took Dudley and a friend out for the day for his birthday. They went to any plave you could think of; amusement parks, hamburger resturaunts, or the movies. Every single year, Duo was stuck with Mrs. Figg, a crazy old lady who lived just down the road from the Dursleys. Duo hated it there -- her whole house smelled lke cabbage and all she ever let him do was look at old pictures of all the cats she'd ever owned.  
  
"Now what? We surely can't take him with us!" She glared at Duo, as though he'd planned it all. Duo knew he SHOULD feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it also meant it would be another year before he had to look at Tibbles, Paws, or Mr. Snowy again.   
  
"Couldn't we call Marge?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculoud Vernon, she hates the boy."  
  
The Dursleys always spoke of Duo like this, as though he wasn't there, or like he was a bit of filth they couldn't understand, like a slug.   
  
"What about your friend, Yvonne?"  
  
"She's on vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.  
  
"Maybe," Duo cut in, hopefully. "You could just leave me here?"  
  
Aunt Petunia looked at him as though she had just swallowed a large rock.   
  
"And come back and find the house in shambles? Do you think we're mad?!" she snapped.  
  
"I won't blow up the house, promise!" Duo said, but as usual, they weren't listening to a word he was saying.   
  
"I suppose maybe we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia very slowly, as if this were the most horrid thing in the world. "...and leave him in the car..."  
  
"That car's new, he's not staying in it alone!!" shouted Uncle Vernon.   
  
At that moment, Dudley chose to begin to cry very loudly. As a matter of fact, it had been years since he'd really cried -- he just knew if he screwed up his face, his mother would give him anything he wanted.   
  
"Dinky Duddy Dear, dont cry! Mummy won't let him ruin your special day!" Aunt Petunia cried, flinging her arms around her massive son. Dudley shot Duo a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms and continued bawling.   
  
"I...don't w-wan't him...t-t-to come!" Dudley wailed between enourmous pretend sobs.   
  
Just then, the doorbell rang.  
  
"Oh good Lord, (AN: no pun intended ^-~) they're here!" cried Aunt Petunia, and she hurried to the front door. Moments later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss walked into the kitchen with his mother. Piers was a very scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He usually held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley say Piers and stopped pretending to cry at once.   
  
Half an hour later, Duo, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursley's car, wedged between Dudley and Piers. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon couldn't think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had pulled Duo aside.   
  
"I'm warning you," he said, putting his great purple face right up close to Duo's. "I'm warning you, boy, any funny busniess, and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."  
  
"But, I'm not going to do anything," said Duo, trying to defend himself. "Honestly..."  
  
But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did, anyway. The problem was, Duo seemed to be prone to strange accidents and happenings. It was no good telling the Dursleys it was just a coincidence, or he didn't make it happen, they never believed him.  
  
One time, Aunt Petunia, tired of Duo coming home from the barbers looking like he hand't been at all, took an enourmous pair of shears and cut all of his hair off so only his bangs remained to "hide that horrid scar". When Dudley had first laid eyes on him with his new haircut, he'd laughed himself silly. Duo spent a sleepless night wondering how much more he was going to get laughed at, for he was already made fun of for his long hair and baggy clothes. Although, next morning when he woke, he found his hair exactly the way it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off -- it was even pre-braided. Duo had gotten a week locked in his cupboard as punishment, even though he couldn't exactly explain how his hair had grown back so quickly.   
  
Another time, Aunt Petunia had beed trying to stuff him into a grotesque old sweater of Dudleys that was brown with little orange puff balls. It seemed like the harder she tugged, the smaller the sweater became. It got to a point where the sweater MIGHT have fit a hand puppet, but it certainly wouldn't fit Duo. Aunt Petunia supposed it might have shrunk in the wash and (suprisingly) he didn't get punishment.   
  
Although, he'd gotten into trouble one time for being found sitting atop the kitchens at school. Dudley's gang had been chasing him when, as much as to his suprise as anyone else's, he was sitting on top of the chimney. The Dursleys had recieved a very angry letter from the Headmistress telling them Duo had been climbing school buildings.  
All he was trying to do was dive behind the cluster of old trashcans beside the door. Duo supposed the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.   
  
But today, Duo was determined to stay out of trouble. This could be the best day of his life and he surely wasn't going to ruin it this time. It was worth being with Dudley and Piers the entire day.   
  
As he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon liked to complain about different things as he drove: people at work, Duo, the council, Duo, the bank, and Duo were just a few of his favorite things to complain about. This morning, however, the subject was motorcycles.   
  
"...roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle passed them with a roar of it's engine.  
  
"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Duo, suddenly remembering. "It was flying."  
  
Uncle Vernon almost crashed into the car infront of them as he slammed on the brakes. He turned completely in his seat and bared down upon Duo, his face like a gigantic plum with a mustache. "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"  
  
Dudley and Piers snickered at Duo.  
  
"I know they don't!" exclaimed Duo, trying to calm Uncle Vernon down."It was only a dream."  
  
But secretly, Duo wished he hadn't said anything. He had had ten years of experience knowing the Dursleys hated anything that was slightly out of the ordinary. No matter if it was a dream, or a cartoon -- Duo seemed to think they thought he might get dangerous ideas.   
  
It was a very sunny Saturday, and the zoo was packed with different families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers huge chocolate ice creams at the ice cream truck by the entrance. Since the grinning lady behind the counter had asked Duo what he wanted before the Dursleys could usher him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop.   
  
So far, Duo was having the best morning of his life. He was careful to walk a little ways from the Dursleys so Dudley and Piers wouldn't get bored and remember their favorite punching bag wasn't far away. They ate in some zoo resteraunt, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his Knickerbocker Glory didn't have anough ice cream, Duo was allowed to finished the first while Uncle Vernon ordered another.   
  
After lunch, they went to the dark, cool reptile house. The house had lit windows all along the walls with different kinds of snakes and lizards were either napping or slithering over pieces of stone and wood. Dudley, unsuprisingly, found the largest and most dangerous-looking snake in the place. It could have wrapped itself around Uncle Vernon's car twice and crushed it like a tin can. Although, it didn't look in the mood to do so -- as a matter of fact, it was sleeping.   
  
"Make it move," Dudley whined to his father. Uncle Vernon rapped on the glass with his knuckles, but the snake slept on.   
  
"Do it again," Dudley demanded, and Uncle Vernon knocked on the glass again. The snake didn't budge.  
  
"This is boring," complained Dudley, and he shuffled away.   
  
As they moved to the next window, Duo moved so he could see the enourmous snake. He sort of felt sorry for the snake -- no company except annoying people tapping constantly on the glass and waking him up. Suddenly, the snake opened its black, beady eyes and leveled its head with Duo's.  
  
It winked.   
  
Duo stared, slightly shocked at the snake. Snakes didn't wink -- did they? Duo quickly looked around to see if anyone else was watching and winked back. The snake jerked its flat head over in Uncle Vernon and Dudley's direction and raised its eyes to the ceiling, giving Duo a look that quite plainly said, "I get that all the time."  
  
"I know," Duo muttered quietly, so no one would get suspicious. "It must be terribly annoying."  
  
The snake nodded.   
  
"Where do you come from?" Duo asked.   
  
The snake jabbed its pointed tail to a small wooden sign next to the glass and Duo peered at it.   
  
Boa Constrictor. Brazil.   
  
"Was it nice there?"  
  
The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Duo read on with interest: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, so you've never seen Brazil?"  
  
The snake shook its dead sadly as a deafening shout behind Duo made both him and the snake jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT THIS SNAKE IS DOING!"  
  
Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as his short, stubby legs could carry him.  
  
"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Duo in the ribs. Duo fell to the floor, caught by suprise, his braid flying out behind him. What came next, no one expected. One second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.   
  
Duo sat up and gasped; the glass infront of the snake's tank had vanished and the great snake was slithering onto the concrete floor. Screams echoed throughout the reptile house as they started running for the nearest exit.   
  
As they snake slithered past him, Duo could have sworn he heard a low, hissing voice say, "Brzail, here I come...Thanksss, amigo."  
  
After that incident, the Dursleys had decided to leave the zoo, much to Duo's dissapointment. Although, in the car, Piers and Dudley could only talk excidedly. Dudley was telling them how it had almost chewed off his leg, while Piers swore it almost choked him to death. As far as Duo had seen, the snake had simply snapped playfully at people's heels as it passed. But, much to Duo's dissapointment, Piers had calmed down enough to say, "Duo was talking to the snake, weren't you, Duo?"  
  
Once at home, Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of earshot before rounding on Duo, his face a nasty shade of red. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed in a chair. Much later, Duo lay in his bed, wishing he had a clock so he could sneak out and steal something to eat.   
  
It had been this way for ten miserable years, as long as Duo could remember, since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash he couldn't remember. Sometimes, when he strained his memory, he could remember a flash of bright green light, and a stabbing pain in his forehead, which was probably from the crash; he had no clue where the green light could have come from. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and there were no photographs of them in the house.   
  
When he was much younger, Duo had dreamed of some unknown relation to take him away, but it had never happened. Although, he had the strange suspicion that strangers in the street seemed to know him. A tiny man in a violet top hat bowed to him once in a shop, and Aunt Petunia ushered him out of the store without a backwards glance. A wild-looking old lady, dressed in all green had actually shaken his hand once while on the bus before disspearing down the aisle. The weird thing about these strangers was the second Duo had tried to get a good look at them, they seemed to dissapear.   
  
At school, Duo had absolutely no one. Everyone there knew Dudley's gang hated that very odd Duo Maxwell with his baggy clothes and ridiculously long hair. And nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.   
  
  
  
  
*End Part 2*  
  
  
  
  
  
This chapter seems awfully cut and pasted...even though I didn't cut and paste it. o_o;; 


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